


that jungle life

by Windywords123



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Plants, Plants everywhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 05:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11097981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Windywords123/pseuds/Windywords123
Summary: Gamora walks into the room where Rocket is grooming himself and blocks his view of the mirror.“Plants,” she announces, “grow better with other plants. Groot is alone.”“What,” he says,  face wet, “he's not alone he's got us! Do you even know how to take care of a plant?”But it doesn't matter. Their next trip planetside, Gamora visits a greenhouse.(written for this anon meme prompt: http://guardian-kink.livejournal.com/2727.html?thread=1534887#t1534887)





	that jungle life

It starts, as these things always seemed to, with the message boards.  
Gamora, Peter, and Rocket take turns finding their next job, when the commissions are slow. Just them. Groot is still in a pot, and Drax set up a babysitting contract the last time they let him online. No one, except maybe Drax, wants a repeat of the babysitting contract.  
It's Gamora's turn to find them a job. She's distracted. Groot is very small, and very cute, and currently his pot is perched right above the holo she's supposed to be occupied with. The cockpit is the only room in the Milano that gets more than a few hours per cycle of starlight, and Drax insisted, at length, that plants need lots of starlight to grow. Rocket's currently in the bathroom, which is the only reason he is not in the room with her, or, more accurately, with Groot.  
By an effort of considerable willpower, Gamora looks away from Groot and pays attention to the message boards. Scam, scam, sting, scam –  
Plants?  
  
***  
  
Gamora walks into the room where Rocket is grooming himself and blocks his view of the mirror.  
“Plants,” she announces, “grow better with other plants. Groot is alone.”  
“What,” he says, face wet, “he's not alone he's got us! Do you even know how to take care of a plant?”  
But it doesn't matter. Their next trip planetside, Gamora visits a greenhouse.  
  
***  
  
“This kind of a plant does best around others of its species,” Drax announces, poking worriedly at the viney, frondy plant sitting next to Groot on the bridge. “And it needs to be watered daily.”  
Peter raises an eyebrow at Gamora. She tilts her head up. “I will take care of it.” She says.  
“We will take care of it!” Drax says. “I know of several plants that would help this one grow. And Groot,” he adds. Groot, still in his pot, waves gently. He seems happy with his new companion, to Gamora's eyes. She is still learning to read him.  
Rocket snorts. He's piloting but he always has one eye on Groot, these days. “It's not the same,” he says, “those're just... just _plants_.”  
(But three days later, Gamora walks in to find him watering Socket, Groot smiling damply in his pot.)  
  
***  
  
Peter is the one who realizes about cuttings. Gamora is brushing a leaf out of her view of the screen when he comes crashing in. “Gamora!” He says. “Groot is a cutting! You can just, like, take a part of _any plant_ and it'll grow into a _new plant_. I coulda been shoplifting plants this whole time, and no one woulda even noticed!”  
Trust Peter to get excited about something like this, Gamora thinks, fondly.  
She is feeling a little less fond when, by the next solar week, no less than 37 new plants have showed up in the cockpit, dirt and all. Most of them are small, and look, to Gamora's eyes, as though they will probably die. Drax tosses out nine – five don't like rooting, two are carnivorous, one is a sacred plant that has been genetically engineered to attack 'shoplifters', and one gets moon-sized left unattended – but assures them that the other plants will survive if they are careful.  
Rocket, attempting to tinker with the navigation system, brushes one of Bacon's leaves out of the way, and yells a truly impressive curse. And Gamora has heard a lot of impressive curses in her life. He kicks the wall. “Yesterday this one dripped on my gun,” he snarls.  
“I am Groot,” says Groot.  
Rocket deflates. “Yeah, yeah. I guess.”  
The plants stay.  
  
***  
  
Gamora walks into the cockpit one day to find Groot, newly liberated from his pot, twirling Very Poisonous in an improvised tango. The smile comes almost unwillingly.  
Over these many years as the daughter of Thanos, Gamora has learned to think of no one as a person. She still most naturally thinks in tactics and objectives, still cannot convince herself, some nights, that there is any other person in the galaxy.  
On the rare occasion she saw them, plants were furniture, nothing more. Food, at best.  
Gamora is relearning personhood. She can see Rocket, see Peter, and her first thought is not of their death, capture, disposal. Plants have names, even the tiny Slilla that Peter and Drax insist will grow. They have a kind of being-ness to them.  
They are alive, and so is Gamora.  
(She does not interrupt Groot and Very Poisonous, not this time. But next time, Gamora thinks, maybe she'll tango with the plants.) 

  
  


BONUS:  
“No. No Peter I'm serious you can barely see outta the fuckin' window, okay? No more plants.” Rocket spits.  
Groot says, “I am Groot. I am Groot!”  
“...You're pregnant? Okay, no, obviously I didn't mean it like that, Groot!”  
“So does this mean I can pick up a spotted death vine?” Gamora asks, innocently. She is ignoring the news. She is confident that Groot is lying, He is much too young.  
“No!”  
“What about a blue jumpie?” Peter says.  
Drax walks in holding a bag of fertilizer and a burgled watering can. “I like the plants.” He rumbles. “They remind me of home.”  
Rocket looks around the room. He is surrounded.  
“Fine. Fine! Live in a jungle, see if I care.”  
Gamora smiles again. She has been to jungles, before. Far from the cold iron and concrete of Thanos' reign, a jungle sounds... pleasant.  
  
***  
  
(three days later, when Not At All Poisonous, No Really drops a flower into her coffee, Gamora almost – almost – reconsiders.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a bit ago, and kept meaning to edit it, but it didn't happen so here it is!
> 
> (Also, cuttings are addictive. 37 is probably definitely an underestimate.)


End file.
